Dribbling Drabbles
by CrazyIndigoChild
Summary: Hello my anthropomorphic-feline loving friends! Do you like free stories? Cause I'm giving 'em out like hotcakes! Want to know how to get yours? You know where to click!
1. Dribbling Rules

Heyy pal-Os! In honour of Broadway bringing CATS back and my growing re-interest in CATS I will be hosting a non-stop drabble party! That's right, folks, once a week I shall be plucking a drabble request submitted by YOU the people, writing it, and then posting it so the world can see what monstrosities go through the minds of fans.

 **"** **But CrazyIndigoChild, que is a drabble?"**

Well my underinformed friend, a drabble is a story or scene that lasts no more than 1000 words. Don't look it up or you'll get lots of mixed messages. Trust me on this one.

 **"** **How does one such as myself partake in this drabbling?"**

You think of a scene, conversation, or a prompt that I can reasonably fit into 1000 words and submit it via response/comment and Voi-freaking-la, you're in!

 **"** **Oh CrazyIndigoChild, you poor naïve soul, surely you're not going to go against the time-honoured tradition of capitalism and do this all for free are you?"**

Heck no! Well… yes, BUT NO! See I have a wilting ego to feed and telling myself I'm great is like drinking your own pee to stay hydrated. It sucks. What I require is reviews. That's all. Feedback on your drabble and others is all I'd like. If you're going to sit there on your keister and read this crap you might as well let me know how I'm doing, right? Basic FFN etiquette.

 **"** **But review writing is so hard!"**

And writing your weird kinks when I could be writing my own drains me of my life force, but sacrifices must be made!

 **"** **Any more demands?"**

Yes, please! **_BE AS SPECIFIC AS POSSIBLE_**. It's a bit hard trying to come up with new ideas for every request. Here's a handy-dandy formula:

(Character/pairing) + (Theme) + (Scene/event)

For example: Deuteronomy hurt/comfort after he forgot the safe word in a very acrobatic night of debauchery with Skimbleshanks.

Now...

TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT

In 1000 words or less!

Onward!


	2. The Name Game (MunkMisto)

"…How about Ignatius?" Mistoffelees mused, gleefully dumping the neatly folded box of kitten items the yard's mothers had prepared. Hard to think he was going to have kittens of his own; he wouldn't have been confused for the most paternal of toms.

For what wouldn't be the first or last time his mate made an offended sound, hammering it in with a sturdy patch to block out yet another draft in their den. "It sounds like a name I'd have made fun of as a kitten."

"But if it was on your kitten—"

"I'm only feline, Misto, if you set me up for failure I'm going to fail." Another loud bang made him drop the small booties he'd picked up. "You know, drafts are good for kittens. They build strong character."

Reaching over to inspect a blue cloth set, a pang in Mistoffelees side had him hissing and gripping his protruding belly. Gingerly unbending himself, he brought his bulk back to siting upright. Panting, he rubbed at his sore rib.

A rumbling laugh followed a light nuzzle to his shoulder. "Look at that, he's got my sensibility!"

"I think he was protesting the slapdash workmanship on that draft," the tux chuckled, leaning back and stretching out against his mate's chest. It would be good to note that, yes, his mate was another tom, and yes he was just days from birthing said tom's kitten. How? Well, Mistoffelees had given up on that conundrum long ago.

Strong silvery tabby paws wrapped around his middle to grip a comically large and rounded belly on an otherwise petite cat. "Well if he can have an opinion about my carpentry let's see how he feels about the names I've thought out. Alright, kit, one kick for yes and two for no."

"So I get punished if it disagrees with you? Munk, that's hardly fair—" 

"You're right. We should teach it Morse code and then have it kick out its name to us."

"You heard your father: once for yes, twice for no."

Munkustrap splayed his fingers out over stretched skin in severe concentration. "Okay. How about… Eydie."

"Eyd—?" 

"Let the kit speak, Misto, you had your chance."

Settling in, Mistoffelees rested his head against his mate's shoulder and tried his best to enjoy the paws on his belly. He flinched with another pained hiss. "That was a no," he groaned.

"I didn't feel it." Sighing, Mistoffelees grabbed his paws and dragged them high on his stomach. "Fine, you get out of Eydie. Hey, kit, how about… Aaric."

That time the kitten had hit its mark and bumped Munkustrap's paw lightly. Gasping, the tabby's eyes lit up. "I think we got—" another pop and a striped chin plopped heavily on Mistoffelees' shoulder. "A stubborn little bugger. Just like its father."

Mistoffelees decided it was his turn to give his kitten crystal ball a try. "How about Oakley?"

The belly remained quiet and still under their penetrating stares. The tux smiled smugly back at his mate; "It's a good one, he needs to think it over."

"I think you broke it; no kitten of mine would ever stand to be named after a tree."

Mistoffelees gasped. "Oakley is a good name! It's strong and sturdy—"

"Like a tree!" Munkustrap bemoaned. He hid his face in the mass of black and white headfur with a lengthy sigh. "You're insufferably bad at this."

"Come on, next one. I know you've got more."

"Mordred."

"No more 'M' names."

"Misto, having all of us have 'M' names is smart; it reinforces us as a family unit and boosts morale."

Mistoffelees had only a snort, "Morale." He pressed his paws flat to his stomach. Idly Munkustrap began to draw circles into the fur there. "How about Arlo?"

"Is it short for anything?"

A shrug. "Nope."

"Let's give it a shot. What do you think, _Arlo_?"

There was a long moment of silence, another name to put on the shelf perhaps? Munkustrap opened his mouth to offer his condolences when Mistoffelees sat up with a gasp, reaching down between his legs. When his paw came back it was wet and smelled strangely sweet. His eyes were round like saucers and his expression comically awestruck. "Arlo it is."


	3. Meaty Delights (MunkMisto)

Hey guys! So glad to see so many comments on the story already! It makes me glad to see so may new and old usernames on here :) So my plan of attack then is to write all of your suggestions onto a piece of paper and put them in a handy-dandy box-of-sorting and pick and choose. Don't be sad, I'm hoping to get quite a number done before dropping off to my one-a-week. I might even submit one every few days or so.

Anyway, I'm done my rambling. This one is Delphicoracle-Cat's prompt 3

It had been three days since Mistoffelees stepped out of the spare room in their den. Three days, Munkustrap noted with chagrin, since the tux had eaten, slept, or used the litter box. Well Mistoffelees was no stranger to amazing feats, no matter how much they made his mate tear his fur out with anxiety.

Ever the problem-solver, Munkustrap had come up with a solution. Bowl of wet food in-paw he stormed the tux's barricade: "Knock knock. Can I come in?"

There was the clanging of tin and a mumbled cuss word followed by silence. Well it wasn't a 'no'. Carefully the tabby opened the door and slipped inside.

"Close the door behind you," Mistoffelees mumbled, eyes closed tight with his paws framing the flame of a candle on the ground before him. "Do you need anything?"

Grabbing the pillow by the door, he set up a spot beside the engrossed magician and slowly began mixing the bowl of wet food into a lumpy paste. "Nope. Just visiting."

Blinking Mistoffelees tore his gaze from his work, looking very young as he looked up at his mate with a small bashful smile. "Have I been gone so long?"

"Any time away from you is too long." That had the desired effect: an eye roll and an apologetic kiss for his suffering. When the tux pulled away Munkustrap hooked his finger onto his mate's bowtie collar and held up a spoon of wet food.

"Just visiting, eh?" Mistoffelees chuckled with a grin, planting a quick peck on tabby lips before quickly cleaning the spoon. With the crack of his knuckles he returned to his project.

Getting comfortable on the pillow, Munkustrap gathered another spoonful of wet food. "What have you been up to?"

"I'm trying to learn to handle fire." Not taking his eyes off his paws he leaned over and bit into the hovering spoon. Chewing, he bent over the flame and closed his eyes. If not for the fact that he'd get kicked out, Munkustrap would have admonished him for trying to burn his whiskers off. Experience had taught him to keep his lip zipped.

Tempted by the smell of Chardbury's Meaty Delight (TM) Munk stole himself a quick lick before offering it to his mate. "That would be a very useful skill to have."

"Yes, well I'm at something of a disadvantage—" he leaned in before Munkustrap could offer and devoured another glob of food. With his mouth full he chuckled. "I happen to be especially flammable."

"Well it makes sense that someone so incredibly hot—"

"And here I wondered where all the romance had gone."

"Right here, babe!" and in swooped another spoonful. "So tell me, what is it exactly you're doing?"

"Alright. You know how…" and that was more or less where Munkustrap's attention gave out while Mistoffelees dove into a long-winded monologue about fireology and solar patterns and something about the migration of snails? He wasn't sure; he was too busy punctuating the long lecture with spoonfuls of chow into his mate's mouth.

Mostly he just liked the ebb and flow of the tux's voice, liked the way he said 'coil' and 'bubble'. The way his paws cupped the flame and lifted it from the candle's wick. Periodically he would nod and say something like "That sounds very complicated," and a throw in a couple interested 'hms' and 'ahs'.

"Ah, damn!" Mistoffelees shrieked, dropping the flame onto the ground. It sputtered once before it was hastily stomped out. "Give me a moment…"

There were a couple strikes before the new match caught and Mistoffelees' vexed face lit up behind a tiny flickering flame. Munkustrap quelled it with some non-descript Meaty Delight (TM).

Finally the spoon came from the bowl empty and Mistoffelees' speech had long come to a close. As much as he'd liked to stick around he was beginning to sense his welcome coming to a close and stood with a yawn. "Well, I ought to be off to bed then."

"Is it that time already?"

"Long past."

Smiling Mistoffelees hopped up on his toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'll be out shortly."

Munkustrap gathered his bowl and spoon and kicked the pillow back towards the door before giving a white-tipped ear a small tug. He easily found the door. "I'll see you for breakfast, love."


	4. What Makes A Jellicle Cat (Coricopat)

Hey everyone! So the drabble this week goes out to HumanGuineapig who requested a drabble about Cori and fitting in. Now I' not sure if that means him _struggling to fit in_ or _Cori is fitting in_ but if there's any problems with it or it wasn't what you had in mind then by all means send another request :) Also the rules have been updated so check those out!

Hope you likey!

What is a Jellicle cat?

A rather silly question as the answer is rather quite plain, though explaining it would be a day-long chore no respectable cat of any creed would think to engage in. But if one cared enough to look closely they would find no uniformity to the Jellicles: there's nothing that connects one to the other aside from the title of a Jellicle cat. Not colour nor lineage, not skill or trade. There is no connection at all.

So then that brings us back to what exactly _is_ a Jellicle cat?

"… Are you lost in that big ol' head of yours again?" Coricopat emerged from the daze of thought to a soft rap on the noggin. He had been blankly staring at the small group of cats dancing in the corner; a skill he himself did not possess, though a lot of Jellicles did. But not all. "If it's about the chicken or egg thing—"

"It's not the riddle," he groaned, rubbing the dry from his eyes. "I'm just… thinking."

"About your name?"

"About _a_ name." He inspected the dancing group more closely. Victoria, Mistoffelees, Tumblebrutus. They could leap into the heavens and twirl like florets in a warm spring breeze… and yet hardly any of them sang without the safety of a harmonized chorus. Even then he knew Tumblebrutus would mouth the words and Mistoffelees might hum a line or two. "Tantomile, am I a good Jellicle Cat?"

"How do you mean? Of course you're a good Jellicle. I've never seen someone fail at being one, if that's what you're worried about." She chuckled as she nipped at his ear playfully, but he was in no joking mood.

"What do Jellicles do?"

Tantomile sighed. "Well… they sing—"

"I don't sing."

"They dance—"

"I'm not much of a dancer."

"Jellicle cats tend to sleep the day away."

"Right. But all cats do that. I want to know what _Jellicle_ cats do… and what I do that makes me one."

He set the dancers aside and inspected the rest of the cats. Bombalurina, Tugger, Demeter, and Jemima. They sang beautifully. Plato, Asparagus, and Alonzo were all very brave and made excellent fighters… Munkustrap happened to be both. Coricopat wasn't at all like Munkustrap, and he couldn't dance in Victoria's shadow.

"I'm just…"

Jenny, Jelly, Electra, Admetus were great with teaching and using their paws to build and create. Rumpleteazer, Mungojerrie, and Asparagus were resourceful and brought in a lot of supplies from the city.

And then there was Coricopat. He read a lot and kept his distance. Instead of dancing he meditated and communed with the wind and the stars; when he should be learning his scales he thought of the great philosophers from his texts and kept up with the human politics. "…Not like the others."

Even his sister, his twin and equal, was more Jellicle than he.

"Well of course not! Jellicles aren't meant to be the same. We wouldn't have much to celebrate at the Ball if that were the case."

"No… we wouldn't. It would be rather boring, I suppose."

"Could you imagine? A tribe of Tuggers, or Rumpleteazers? A dozen of Mistoffelees running amok and burning everything; I don't even want to imagine what thirty-some-odd Jennyanydotses would look like."

"How about a couple dozen Etceteras?"

"Bastet help us."

"I wonder how we'd—"

"Coricopat?"

It was Munkustrap, Skimbleshanks, and a handful of the tribe's stronger and more constructive cats. "Last week you had mentioned something about cleaning water from the lake; you mentioned something about a way to filter it…?"

"Oh, you mean using a still?"

"Yes, that's it! Did you have a moment to spare, we were hoping to try and make one for the springtime runoff."

Breathing in the late-winter breeze, he flattened the fur on his head and got back to work. If anything Jellicles did work hard."Of course. I'll need to grab my book for the finer details, but I can meet you at Deuteronomy's den in a half hour."


End file.
